


what hides in the dark

by zoldnoveny



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Lesbian Character, Pining, So much angst, anbu ino, compulsory heterosexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 18:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18628702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoldnoveny/pseuds/zoldnoveny
Summary: Ino wishes she could say there was a time when she understood her relationship with Sakura, but there isn’t. Maybe Sakura got it, once, but Ino never has. All she wanted when she was young was to impress her, and she thought battling with her over Sasuke’s attention was somehow the way to do so. She thought obsessing over boys and chasing after the one Sakura liked was a good way to drown out how she felt about girls./In which Ino is in ANBU





	what hides in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> heheh so here is my incredibly self indulgent au.... i might turn this into a series and post more later but who knows. thanks for reading and enjoy :)

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Sakura tells her with a flat expression as Ino ducks through the window.

  
  
She’s wearing mint colored scrubs. Sakura, that is, and her hair is tied back into a stubby knot at the nape of her neck.  Darkness lines her eyes, like purpling bruises. She must’ve been working a long and-or particularly brutal shift, looking as worn out as she did.

  
  
Ino almost felt bad for burdening her.

  
  
But not really. She slid from the window-frame to stand, reaching behind her head to undo the binds of her mask. The porcelain fell away from her face with a rush of air to her now exposed skin, sticky with sweat and grime.

  
  
“Aren’t you happy to see me?” She asks. The pain in her arm reintroduces itself with a particularly cruel throb.

  
  
Sakura’s eyes settle on the wound there. “You’re bleeding all over my floor.” She sighs.

  
  
“You’d better patch me up then, huh, forehead? C’mon, it hurts!” She pouts, relishing in the ability to once again express her feelings through facial expressions.

  
  
The thing about ANBU is - and the thing Ino had to learn through experience - is that it’s impossible to be totally yourself when the mask goes on. Something slips along with it, a shroud or a film or a veil or whatever, and it swallows up the finite details of you until you’re nothing but a machine. Or an animal, rather.

  
  
It’s not that Ino is totally different when she’s Pig. But when they’re attacking something, she feels furthest away. It’s a whole lot easier to get swept up in battle. It’s easier to kill.

  
  
And to get hurt. Sakura can attest for that one.

  
  
With each mission Ino returns from, since she’s joined the force, she’s spent her first few hours back home with Sakura, who always fixes her up with doctoral precision.

  
  
This time, Ino is herded to sit on the edge of a bed in the room she snuck into, while Sakura rolls over a stool to perch on while she cleans out the gash. It’s quite deep - Ino knew that when the shuriken first ripped through her flesh - but it feels even worse as Sakura digs around there, pouring chemicals and what-have-you on it.

  
  
Ino hisses through her teeth.

  
“Don’t be a baby,” Sakura scolds without malice. The latex of her gloves is cold against Ino’s heated skin. “This can’t hurt as much as it did getting it.”

  
  
“Does so,” Ino sulks. “You’re brutal! Terrible bedside manner, too.“

  
  
Sakura’s hand encircles her arm, below the wound, in a strong grip, and pulls it straight. Ino obeys. A square of gauze is placed neatly, before Sakura starts raveling bandages tightly overtop.

  
  
“That’s way too tight.” Ino warns.

  
  
“It needs to be tight so you don’t start bleeding again.” Sakura pulls it taut.

  
  
“You’re gonna cut off my circulation.”

  
  
“I seriously don’t understand how you have your job.” Sakura rolls her eyes. “Considering you’re such a whiner.”

  
  
“I save it all for you.”

  
“That, I can believe.” Sakura winds the bandages around a few more times, before settling back and stripping herself out of her gloves, the things snapping as they roll from her fingers. “All done.”

  
Ino expiremently flexes, and finds that the bandages are entirely suitable. Of course,  they’re perfect, because Sakura is the best doctor out there alongside her mentor and she’s always perfect. Which Ino will never admit aloud.

  
  
“Thanks, forehead.” Ino offers up a smile.

 

“Sure, Ino-pig.”

It’s dark outside - it has been since Ino got home, but it has to be somewhere in the wee hours of the morning now. Ino was very much looking forward to going home and sleeping for an incredibly long time.

Sakura obviously has a night shift and won’t be leaving the hospital for a few hours yet.

Ino bends forward, closing the gap between them, and gently touches her mouth to Sakura’s. Their lips meld together in practiced ease, faces angled to best accommodate. Sakura’s hand comes to rest over Ino’s face, and Ino presses open the seam of Sakura’s lips with her tongue. They kiss for a few more silent moments.  
  
Ino withdraws, hair in her eyes. “Seeya, Sakura.”

  
She leaves the same way she came in.

* * *

  
  
She skips over rooftops on her way back home. Not living with her family anymore is strange, especially considering she’s in such a reputable clan, but all ANBU stay in apartments near the Hokage’s residence. She doesn’t really have a problem with living alone, but it does get kind of sad every once and awhile. Especially returning home from grueling missions, when she just wants to know there are people that she does this for, waiting for her. Of course, the dream of her father settling an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple can no longer be fulfilled, but there’s always her mother.  
  
Ino can’t be sure if she’d miss her dad more if she lived at home, or if she misses him more otherwise. It probably doesn’t even matter, and she’d miss him the same regardless. Such grief didn’t appear to be avoidable.  
  
But she assumes not being greeted by a cold and empty apartment every night might help.  
  
She sighs. Her arm throbs, although it already feels much better with Sakura having tended to it. After toeing off her sandals beside her door, she wanders down the hall to undress and prepare for bed.

And then collapses into her mattress and sleeps like the dead.

Sometimes after missions it’s impossible to rest. She’ll lie there awake and staring up at the ceiling, plagued by some gruesome event she recently watched unfold. Thinking about her injured or dead squad members - maybe even thinking about the enemy. That’s another thing she had to learn about ANBU - the missions are never quite like normal ones. They always take something from you.

Lots of Yamanaka are in ANBU. They’re entirely suited for it, with their jutsu and all that. Can’t get much better than reading thoughts and controlling minds, considering the secretive nature of it all. Ino had never really considered joining up until soon before she did so. After her father died, and after the war ended, it seemed like a good way to serve her village and simultaneously escape from it all.

She likes it a lot more than she thought she would. Actually, like isn’t the right word... she’s more suited for it than she expected, beyond just being a Yamanaka. She doesn’t hate it. It’s given her what she wants from it, and she doesn’t imagine retiring anytime soon.

Another thing is that you’re discouraged from having close relationships when you’re in ANBU. Ino has a lot of friends who are very dear to her, so that makes it difficult. But she doesn’t have a boyfriend, so no one in charge is particularly upset.

  
She has Sakura, though.

That’s complicated.

* * *

  
The next morning when she wakes up she’s really started to hurt. That happens often - the pain settles aside in the beginning, still washed over with adrenaline, and takes its time settling in. It’s done so now, curling deeply in her bones, stretching through her muscles. Her neck aches the most, from where she’d fallen on it during a fight. She hadn’t had Sakura check it out for her last night because her arm had taken priority. That too is throbbing dully, and the bandages have started to pinken in the center where it must’ve started bleeding again.

 

She pulls herself out of bed and drags to the bathroom, feeling a weight pulling her down by the ankles.

 

One of the bothersome aspects of ANBU is how secretive it is, and how now that she’s back she can’t let anyone know what she was doing when she was gone.

 

Sakura knows. Because she’s a doctor. She knows plenty of ANBU.

 

Ino could say she told her because she trusts her, which may be true, but she trusts other people too. She trusts Chouji and Shikamaru just as much but they don’t know. She wants to tell them, sometimes, because they’re her closest friends and she’s relied on them for secret keeping in the past, but she can’t. Not only is it against the rules, but Chouji especially would have a fit with worry. Ino’s not sure she can handle that burden.

 

It’s interesting. Everyone is growing up, and so is she. That’s hard to believe, sometimes, that time continues to progress regardless of circumstance. Way back when Sasuke left and everything started turning sour, time seemed to slow to a crawl. During the war, it stopped entirely. Ino partially feels like she’s still trapped back there, fourteen years old, a bright eyed genin with the world still bright and new before her. She doesn’t want to be mature or an adult yet. Which is hilarious and ironic because when she was younger all she wanted to be was grown up. She wore makeup and shaved her legs and sprayed perfume on her wrists to make herself into some sort of miniature woman, flirted with boys and prided herself on being the best of all the girls at it.

 

She’d desperately wanted that sort of independence, but now that she has it, it’s ugly and plain and lackluster.

 

She misses the simplicity of her youth.

 

As she sees her friends getting older, growing into themselves, their appearances shifting and their mindsets transforming, she feels a tugging inside her. A desire to turn them back to how she first knew them - when she could fit them in the palms of her hands and know them, their hearts and minds.

 

Sakura. She misses Sakura the most.

 

It’s not that she dislikes grown up Sakura. The opposite, in fact. Sakura has grown up the most of all of them, Ino dares to believe. She’s known her since she was a little girl, cowering behind fingers and hair, afraid to lift her voice above a trembling whisper, teased and belittled for that forehead of hers. Maybe it’s selfish of Ino to think Sakura’s confidence stems from their childhood friendship, but she can’t help it. She wants to believe she was the one to break her from her shell. Ino once called Sakura a blooming flower - a bud of fresh pink petals furling into the air for the first time, finally beautiful for the world to see - but now she thinks Sakura’s more like an entire garden. Or maybe even some bothersome weeds. Springing up between the gaps in the ground, overtaking the village, strong and impossible to ever really make go away. She’s everywhere Ino looks, unafraid and never-ending.

 

She’s the head doctor at the hospital, smarter than Ino can really understand, and so far away. Even if they’re technically closer than they’ve ever been.

 

Maybe it’s Ino who’s so distant.

 

* * *

 

Her assumption that Sakura has the day off because she worked late yesterday night turns out to be correct. The two of them don’t live that far from each other. Sakura moved out of her parents’ house because she’s simply old enough to do so, not because of her job, unlike Ino. But really, she lives right next to the hospital, so it’s likely a factor.

 

Sakura has a nice place. It’s small, but she doesn’t need much. Decently decorated. A little messy, but mostly well kept.

 

When they spend time together - alone - it’s usually at Sakura’s apartment.

 

She opens the door in her pajamas still, hair ruffled and tangled on the left side, where she likely slept on it. Her feet swim beneath the pooling ends of her pants, which are pink plaid. Her face is set in a grimace. “I only got home an hour ago. I’m sleeping. Go away.” She starts closing the door, but Ino sticks her foot out so she can’t.

 

“I think I messed up my neck. I forgot to mention it last night.”

 

“Then go to the hospital.” Sakura arches an eyebrow, her forehead wrinkling.

 

“But you’re right here.” Ino pouts, squeezing her way inside.

 

Sakura sighs behind her.

 

This is how they do it. Ino comes home hurt and Sakura fixes her. They pretend they’re friends, but they’re not. Well. They are, but it’s not that simple.

 

Ino wishes she could say there was a time when she understood her relationship with Sakura, but there isn’t. Maybe Sakura got it, once, but Ino never has. All she wanted when she was young was to impress her, and she thought battling with her over Sasuke’s attention was somehow the way to do so. She thought obsessing over boys and chasing after the one Sakura liked was a good way to drown out how she felt about girls.

 

It never really worked, because Sakura was always right there.

 

Ino thinks Sakura really did love Sasuke. She yearned for him the way Ino never really could - the way she could only fabricate. Sakura went to the ends of the earth to bring Sasuke back and still wanted him. Always, no matter what.

 

Ino was never that devoted to him. Only to her.

 

Now that she gets it - that the whole competition between them was born from her own desire for Sakura to acknowledge her, see her, feel things about her - even if it grew into anger and jealousy. It’s all so juvenile and predictable, but at the time it was incomprehensible.

 

Now Sakura will kiss her and wrap her up in her arms and it’s almost worse, because Ino has a sinking feeling it’s only temporary, and Sakura is still saving herself for Sasuke.

 

And he’ll never love her the way Ino does.

 

“You probably just pulled a muscle.” Sakura tells her, trailing her fingertips over Ino’s neck. “Ice it if it really hurts, but it’ll sort itself out.”

 

Ino knew she was gonna say that, but she came over anyway.

 

She kisses her. Like she did last night.

 

Sakura doesn’t seem surprised, and swallows Ino up as soon as their lips meet. The hand on her neck curls over the back of her head, drawing her in closer, and Ino settles her arms around her shoulders.

 

The couch creaks slightly as she adjusts her weight, drawing up a leg to fold under herself, pressing closer to Sakura’s solid warmth. Fingers stroke through her hair, which is out of its usual ponytail this morning. Ino shivers slightly at the sensation, and tightens her hold, her jaw loosening as she investigates Sakura’s mouth with her tongue, and bites down on her full lower lip.

 

Sakura’s breath hits her skin as she exhales from her nose.

 

A thumb lays over her cheek, and they seperate lightly for Sakura to look up into Ino’s eyes. “I’m going back to sleep.” She deadpans.

 

Ino can’t help it. She missed her. It won’t be long before she has to go out on another mission, and who knows how long she’ll be gone this time.

 

Sakura kisses her again. This one is quick. “Come back tonight.”

 

* * *

 

Shikamaru probably knows. He always figures stuff out about her before _she_ even knows it, so it’s certainly likely. In fact, Ino’s almost positive he’s known since her very first ANBU mission. She can’t be sure if it’s because of kindness or indifference that he’s never brought it up. Probably some of both.

 

She shows up at his and Chouji’s apartment and lets herself in. Visiting them here is always a little bittersweet, because she wishes she could live here with them. They’re a trio, the three of them, and they belong together. Chouji and Shikamaru are her best friends - her brothers, even, if she’s being metaphorical. She misses them terribly.

 

Chouji is an early riser so he’s already up when she gets there. She can tell he’s out on the balcony, because the door letting out to it in the kitchen is cracked open. Surely he notices her come in, but he doesn’t say anything.

 

Ino goes to wake Shikamaru in his room. He snorts awake when she claps her hands loudly above his face, and narrows his eyes up at her.

 

“What the hell do you want?” He slurs.

 

“Let’s go to breakfast.” She says. “C’mon, I just got back. You can treat me.”

 

“Give me a break,” he groans.

 

“Get ready, you look atrocious.” She chirps.

 

Then goes back to find Chouji outside. He looks over his shoulder when she approaches, but says nothing until she pulls up a chair to sit beside him.

 

“Hey,” he greets.

 

She cards hair from her eyes and smiles prettily at him. “Good morning.”

 

“Just got back?”

 

“Last night.”

 

He nods. A moment passes. “That was a long one.”

 

Maybe Chouji knows too. Maybe she’s been fooling herself thinking she can keep her secret so well.

 

Chouji is one of those people who could never be in ANBU. Shikamaru could. Sakura could. But Chouji… Chouji couldn’t even bare to stop pulling his punches when he trained with Asuma-sensei, back then. His biggest holdback has never been his lack of power - just that he’s too kind to ever truly realize it until the last second. He can’t do ANBU. It would devour him alive.

 

Ino’s glad for it.

 

She’s close enough, so she rests her head on his strong shoulder.

 

“Shikamaru’s getting up so we can go get breakfast.”

 

“All right!” When Chouji speaks, his voice rumbles through his chest and Ino can feel it.

 

“But you know him, it might be a while.”

 

His laugh shakes through her as well.

 

Ino doesn’t know when Chouji and Shikamaru will grow up. Of course, they’re doing the sort of it that’s necessary, the sort that makes her a bit sad when she really thinks about it, but truly they’re both still acting like teenagers. They live together in their unkempt apartment and eat shitty food and get high all the time, take missions when necessary but mostly just laze around. Part of it, she hypothesizes, is that they’re boys and they don’t _have_ to mature they way she did, early on. They get to mess around and have fun and still be respected.

 

Sometimes she thinks the village still views Shikamaru as more qualified than her, even though she’s in ANBU and he only takes missions so he can pay his bills. Not that people know about her, but regardless…

 

People still underestimate Chouji. Because he’s nice, but mostly because he’s fat.

 

It’s so silly, but it’s the way things are. People will always see Chouji through his weight, no matter how much he accomplishes. He’ll always be the chubby one that likes barbecue too much.

 

Just like she’ll always be a tittering, self-obsessed girl.

 

It’s when she thinks about stuff like this that she’s envious of non-Shinobi civilians.

 

* * *

 

They eat at a place Ino likes, and are satisfied with their meal. When they go out together, it’s usually in the evenings, because Asuma-sensei used to take them out after training, so it’s sort of like homage to him. But this is good too.

 

Ino is starting to feel like herself again, which always takes a second after a mission. She’s laughing and catching up with the two of them, not thinking about violence or gore or anything unpleasant, just giggling at Shikamaru getting yelled at for smoking at the table and stinking up the restaurant. The old woman who must be the chef scolds him until he hangs his head and slinks outside to finish. She and Chouji tease him on his way out.

 

They meet him there after Chouji pays, and he’s already started sucking down another cigarette. It’s a terrible habit - Ino hated it when Asuma-sensei did it and she hates it now. But Shikamaru’s far too stubborn to stop.

 

He lags behind them because she complains enough, so it’s just her and Chouji again.

 

“Did Sakura wrap up your arm?” He asks her, gesturing vaguely to her bandages.

 

She glances at it mindlessly, and bobs her head in conformation. “I stopped by the hospital before I went home last night.”

 

Chouji looks at her. It’s not a particularly probing look, but something lurks beyond the surface.

 

Maybe he knows about that too.

 

The two of them - Shikamaru and Chouji - have heard more about Sakura than anyone. Not the new, convoluted stuff, but Ino’s childhood complaints. _She’s nothing special, she’s not even cute enough for so many boys to like her, she’ll never get Sasuke to like her if she keeps acting the way she does, she’s just a civilian and won’t make it as a Shinobi._ The works.

 

In retrospect, considering the way she went on about her so often, it should’ve been obvious.

 

“What are you two blabbing about now?” Shikamaru asks as he falls in at Ino’s side, his hands shoveled in his pockets. His clothes still reek of smoke.

 

“Sakura,” Chouji answers.

 

Shikamaru’s eyes flick to her.

 

When Ino was sixteen, she kissed Shikamaru. It was her first ever kiss with a boy, somehow, and she hadn’t liked it at all. She’d figured since Sasuke had run off, and Sakura was filling in the role of chasing after him, she should pick a new boy to have a crush on. She would’ve preferred going with Chouji, but people would’ve judged her for liking a fat guy. So Shikamaru it was, because he was right there and mildly attractive and it seemed logical. When she kissed him, in his bedroom while Chouji was in the bathroom down the hall, he tasted like potato chips and smelled vaguely like he needed a shower. He kissed back, a little slimy, and then the both of them had jerked back.

 

_“What the hell, Ino?”_

 

She giggled. “ _Just trying something out.”_

 

And he called her a bothersome woman, in typical Shikamaru manner.

 

They never really talked about it after that.

 

Then Sai came around and called her beautiful so she decided to have a crush on him instead.

 

Ino could never quite be sure. Shikamaru _had_ kissed her back, so maybe he liked her. Maybe he was waiting for her to do it again. She doesn’t think so, though. Their relationship - like her relationship with Chouji - is built too strongly on a platonic foundation. To try and mess that up with romance would be nothing but confusing and disastrous.

 

Now, Shikamaru looks at her like he’s picking her apart, piece by piece. He really always has been way too smart for his own good.

 

She wonders what would happen if she just told them both. That she and Sakura have been… doing what they’ve been doing.

 

A great deal of her adolescence was spent convincing the world that she was boy crazy. At the time, she’d been able to convince herself she was being truthful. All she wanted was male approval - affirmation that she was pretty and strong and worthy of something - whatever that thing might have been. It was easy to twist up that desire into fabricated attraction.

 

If Chouji and Shikamaru had already figured her out, they’d get it… but what if she suddenly decided to come clean and tell everyone she was a lesbian?

 

Would they even believe her?

 

Well, what if they did? What if they all laughed and said, _oh, we’ve always known_.

 

Ino hates to admit that she would be just as insulted that way.

 

“Please don’t tell me you’re not gonna launch yourself into another rant about her,” Shikamaru is saying. “I can’t handle that.”

 

“Can’t you keep up? We’re friends! I haven’t complained about her like that in forever.” Ino reprimands.

 

He gives her another look. “Whatever.”

 

* * *

 

She keeps her ANBU mask in a dark corner of her closet, in a wooden jewelry box. The thing had been a gift from her father, passed down to him from his mother to one day give his daughter. It was beautiful, finely crafted and ornate with flowering details carved into the sides. The lid was painted with white lilies, and the inside was lined with blue velvet. Ino never wears much jewelry, besides her earrings, so the box stayed mostly empty for a long time. Now she trusts it to keep her secret.

 

The masks are made by a local artisan, and they’re beautiful too. Ino found it kind of ironic, when she learned that. Something beautiful made to be the face of violence, blood-spattered and emotionless. That old woman bent over her desk with age-knotted and trembling fingers to paint twirling designs over the porcelain surface, knowing whoever would one day wear her creation would kill in it - that face would be the last thing an enemy ever saw. Perhaps that’s why she made them so lovely.

 

Ino chose to be Pig because it was the first animal that came to her mind when asked. What other animal had ever been used to describe her, even as a childhood insult?

 

Besides, pigs are supposed to be really smart, right? They weren’t so bad.

 

* * *

 

The second time Ino sees Sakura that day, she looks a lot more well-rested. Her hair has been smoothed into some sort of neatness, although it still hangs jagged around her jaw. Ino thinks of being thirteen and slicing through it with the edge of her kunai. Watching strands of pink flutter to the hard ground, revealing the slope of Sakura’s hunched back. She’d cut off a huge chunk of her hair in battle, and Ino had been awestruck by her resolve. The quickness in which she sliced through the very thing she thought made her beautiful. She hadn’t cared, in that moment. She’d just acted. Ino ached with jealousy and want, although she couldn’t make sense of her desires. And then she’d fixed the mess Sakura made and watched her transform into something new beneath her fingertips.

 

When Sakura grew her hair out long, Ino did the same. And when she cut it all off in a fight, Ino did the same, too.

 

Was she doomed to follow her this way forever?

 

Sakura invites her inside and they watch television on her couch.

 

It’s strange to like girls like this, Ino has come to know. Because girls can press beyond boundaries of typical friendship and no one will ever bat an eye. They can touch and hold hands and sit close and lather each other in compliments, and that’s just normal. Ino has seen boys frantically shuffle around each other in fear of accidentally brushing fingers, or hurriedly correcting themselves after saying something that could be taken as flattery. It’s silly. Why is it so different?

 

It’s easier this way. To hide. It always has been, because she can be close with Sakura in the way she wants and not be suspected of anything.

 

When they were fourteen, they kissed for the first time, claiming to be practicing on each other so they could one day kiss boys with admirable skill. It seemed perfectly rational.

 

But Ino always wanted a little more. Foolishly enough.

 

Now Sakura settles into her side and kicks her socked feet up on the table before them, the muscles in her legs shifting. Her arm is warm and solid against Ino’s, the back of her hand resting over Ino’s thigh. It only takes half of an episode for her to rest her head on Ino’s shoulder, and Ino reaches to tangle their fingers together.

 

“How’s your arm?” Sakura asks.

 

Honestly, Ino sort of forgot about it. It still hurts dully, but it was hardly a bad enough injury for her to keep thinking about it. “Okay.”

 

“And your neck?”

 

“Well, it’s been better, considering you’re leaning on it right now.” Ino teases.

 

Sakura pulls back and Ino regrets saying that. But then Sakura narrows her eyes and says, “You’re such a liar,” before retaking her previous position.

 

Ino stares at their hands while the television goes on in the background.

 

It’s like this: Ino and Sakura have been dancing around each other since adolescence. First it was practice, then experimentation, and then neither. Sakura would kiss her and act like she wanted her, but then turn around to keep looking for Sasuke seconds later. Ino would wait for her to return like some sort of lost dog, desperate for a master. It was sort of pathetic. But worth it, in the moments Sakura was happy with her. It wasn’t that she was trying to hurt Ino, Ino knew. Sakura was about as good and kind as it got - that was part of the allure. She just didn’t understand that it ran so much deeper for Ino.

 

When Ino joined the force, it became easier to categorize her life. There was her ANBU self, and her regular self. To squeeze in an extra one just for Sakura was easy enough. All it took was stumbling bloodily to the hospital after one mission for Ino to will up the courage to kiss Sakura like she had when they were kids and just ‘messing around.’ And Sakura had gone along with it.

 

They’d never discussed anything. It just was.

 

Now Ino is at her house and holding her hand on her couch. She wants something substantial so badly it tears through her. Could they have that if she wasn’t ANBU, she wonders? Or would they have even less, that way?

 

* * *

 

The night ends in Sakura’s bed, where they do what they do. Sakura falls asleep quickly after, face still washed with a rosy flush, torso covered by a light sheet drawn up halfway across her chest. She sleeps with her mouth open. It’s so unflattering, but Ino is charmed nonetheless.

 

The blinds are drawn together, but the black sky lingers beyond it visibly, washing the room in darkness. Ino can only see Sakura by the soft yellow light of the moon, her skin bathed in gold. Ino takes the time to appreciate her like this. Her arms lay at her side, chest moving gently with each breath, legs tangled up in the sheets. She’s really grown into herself, just like Ino knew she would. So beautiful and so strong. Ino recalls watching her punch through walls of heavy rock, debris splintering under her powerful fist and showering across the land. It’s crazy to think that woman is the same person as the little girl afraid to raise her voice.

 

Ino pulls herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, bending at the waist to go searching for her clothes. As she reaches for her pants, a hand closes around her wrist.

 

She looks over her shoulder.

 

Sakura is half propped up, weight leaning on her shoulder, eyes squinting through the darkness. “Stay.” She says.

 

A large hand squeezes around Ino’s heart, and she waits a moment before nodding mutely and laying back down. She settles closely to Sakura, and rests her cheek over her chest. Fingers stroke the hair from her face, and she exhales into Sakura’s neck.

 

Sleep finds her soon after.

 

* * *

 

The rain wakes her. It patters against the window and streams down in rivulets, soft yet steady. Ino blinks back into consciousness and allows herself a moment to lay there in Sakura’s arms, enjoying the warmth and comfort of it all. Sakura’s nose and lips rest at the nape of her neck, and her arm is thrown over Ino’s waist, as she curls against Ino’s back. Ino trails her fingertips over the forearm, tracing a line of muscle. Sakura’s fingers twitch slightly, and Ino wants to take her hand like she did last night.

 

Instead she gets up and gets dressed. Sakura does not wake in time to lure her back to bed again, but even if she had, Ino wouldn’t have gone. She has guard duty today, and she needs to report to the Hokage’s office before seven am.

 

She rushes through the rain to get back home and get ready. Sakura was still still sleeping when she left, and she isn’t sure if it’s better or worse that way. It’s easier to leave that way, for certain, so at least there’s that.

 

After she dries her hair and slips into her uniform, she ties her mask behind her head in practiced ease, and skips over rooftops to get to work.

 

Cat is waiting for her on the roof outside the Hokage’s office. He stands there aimlessly, and turns his head to face her as she approaches. He, like her, is not untouched by the rain. It dampens his clothes and darkens his already inky hair.

 

“Good morning, Pig.” He greets cheerily.

 

“Morning!” She chirps back. It’s far too early to be so happy, but it’s her thing. Besides, it’s Cat, and she always acts happy to see him.

 

“You’re later than usual today.”

 

“Still on time, though.” Her voice lilts.

 

He doesn’t respond.

 

Their shift has yet to start, but it’s only minutes away, and Hokage-sama is typically absent. He’s always late. Ino shifts her weight. The rain glances off her mask tinnily.

 

“Did you have sex last night?” Cat suddenly asks, blunt as ever.

 

Ino colors in surprise, and is happy to know her blush is hidden by her mask. He really never pulls punches, does he? Just goes straight for it. “Why do you wanna know?!”

 

Cat shrugs, and even though she can’t see his face, she can picture his expression of indifference. “To quell my curiosity.”

 

“Why do you even think I did, huh?” She demands, suddenly defensive.

 

“You came in late.” He answers, simply enough.

 

“And you think that can only mean I had sex last night?”

 

He considers for a moment. “Yes.”

 

She pouts. “You’re so vulgar.”

 

“So, you did.” He concludes.

 

“It’s none of your business.” Ino tells him, firmly, in hopes that he’ll drop it. It’s not that she’s ashamed that she had sex, only that Cat has no right to go sticking his nose in her business. Part of her reasons that it’s not his fault, that he doesn’t know how to swallow down his inquiries, but the other part argues he’s been around other people for long enough to have learned how to hold his tongue.

 

But what if she did tell him? What if she admitted, ‘ _Yeah, I was at Sakura’s house last night. You’re right.’_ She hates the way apprehension clenches up inside of her at the thought. And for what? The possibility that Cat - that _Sai_ \- wouldn’t like her anymore? That he’d stop calling her beautiful when they were out of uniform? Why, after all this time and all this self-discovery, does she still obsess over men’s opinions of her above all else?

 

It’s not like she wants a relationship with him. In fact, such a thing sounds somewhat tortuous. Ino likes Sai plenty - he’s nice beyond layers of social ineptitude and provides continuous entertainment with his inappropriate remarks. Ino even considers him her friend. But, being with him… not only is she not attracted to him, but they don’t click in that way. She doesn’t think. There could be a chance, maybe, if she liked men. But she doesn’t. And there’s a distinct possibility that _he_ does, considering the way he trips after Naruto and wears those skimpy outfits.

 

But he still calls her beautiful, and she still likes it.

 

“Why are you so obsessed with other people’s sex lives, anyway? Do you need to get laid, Cat?” She teases back, finding the best way to combat his vulgarity is with some of her own.

 

“Are you propositioning me?” He turns it back on her.

 

“Don’t sound so hopeful.”

 

“I’m not,” She can hear the smile in his voice, “I have no desire to have sex with you.”

 

Ino waits to be offended, but finds that she’s not. “Well, glad that’s cleared up.”

 

Actually, she thinks she is.

 

* * *

 

Kakashi-sensei - Hokage-sama - Ino’s never quite sorted out which way to refer to him in her head - shows up late as usual. He leads a particularly uneventful day, sorting through paperwork and handing out mission assignments, meeting with villagers and eventually succumbing to the temptation of reading behind his desk. Ino and Sai, or Pig and Cat, rather, don’t converse anymore. They are perfectly silent on their perch on the roof, as expected of them. Although Kakashi-sensei knows they’re there, he’s not to be disturbed by their presence. They are a well concealed secret. Ino doesn't mind it. It’s in the job description, after all, so if she did, she wouldn’t be very qualified. It just makes for a boring day. She almost wishes she could be on a mission, at least for some excitement.

 

That’s what it does to you. You think you’re unaffected and the same as you’ve always been, only to discover you find yourself wanting it. The violence. It creeps up on you in moments like this, takes hold of the innocent boredom, and twists it into something darker. Before ANBU, a mission could be violent or dangerous as well, but not in the same way. Not on the same scale. Besides, Ino never particularly liked those missions, before. They were a necessary evil, and she much preferred the sort that didn’t dissolve into bloody chaos.

 

Now, though…

 

She knows what happened to Kakashi-sensei. What it did to him. The rumors about it all have blurred over time, but Ino has heard whispers. That he killed a girl and turned to ANBU not long after, that he fell into that yawning pit inside of him with no trouble at all, that it consumed him alive until he quit to teach his genin team…

 

Will that happen to her, Ino wonders? Will she totally forget herself?

 

But Kakashi-sensei seems fine now. Maybe a little rough around the edges, but he appears to be a good guy. Considering the whole mess with Sasuke, maybe he wasn’t the best teacher for his team, but he did alright. If what Sakura says about him is true, he meant well. Means well, still. Sakura adores him despite it all, so Ino figures he can’t be all that bad.

 

Ino has never had any qualms working for him. She trusts him to protect their village, so she’ll protect him this way.

 

One day, eventually, when Naruto becomes Hokage, Ino is sure she’ll feel the same. Maybe even a little bit better, because even if Kakashi-sensei is okay, Naruto is _Naruto_ , and he’ll lead them all to a new period of prosperity, one inspirational speech about friendship at a time. It’s just what he does. Ino suspects Naruto was born to be a leader, even if the world did its best to kick and beat that out of him.

 

He could join ANBU and be great at it, but he won’t. Ino can’t decide if she thinks he would love it or hate it, but doesn’t think there would be an inbetween. Naruto is bright and optimistic and kind, but the darkness inside him is undoubtedly overwhelmingly massive. He’s just good at putting it away, and he doesn’t need ANBU to do that for him.

 

Ino’s not that dark. Well, not more than any other Shinobi. She’s seen her fair share of death - lost her Sensei and father, fought in a war - and it left its mark on her. ANBU is her way of sorting that out. Helping her village while distancing herself from it simultaneously. And yet, compared to Naruto or Kakashi-sensei, she doesn’t really have that much to deal with. She doesn’t think. Maybe she’s downplaying her own traumas, but they’re sort of a drop in the ocean compared to other people’s, aren't they?

 

Her mother would scold her for saying that. Would tell her everyone is entitled to their feelings about anything, and each person’s individual experience is just that, and comparing yourself to others is pointless.

 

But Ino isn’t so sure.

 

* * *

 

Her shift ends late into the night. Kakashi-sensei leaves, and she and Cat follow him on his walk home. He goes at an especially leisurely pace and reads the whole way through, but is at his destination soon enough, and Ino leaves from there. Some of her coworkers are already sitting on the roof of his house, ready to take over. She says a quick goodbye to Cat and heads back to her own place.

 

And finds Sakura waiting for her. Which is peculiar, because it’s usually the other way around.

 

When Ino unlocks the door and slips inside, Sakura is sitting at an armchair and thumbing through a book, familiar and undisturbed. She glances up and finds Ino there.

 

“Did you seriously break into my apartment, forehead?” Ino greets, taking off her mask.

 

“Through the window,” Sakura jabs her thumb in the general direction of her entrypoint. Ino glances over and finds it propped open. The air is still cool from the morning rain, but Sakura is wearing a heavy sweater so she must not mind.

 

“Well, you could’ve just called if you wanted to come over.” Ino grumbles, stepping out of her sandals. She leaves them by the door and trots over to plop on the arm of the chair Sakura sits at.

 

“I figured you’d want me to come anyways.” Sakura smiles confidently, and cranes her neck so she can look up at Ino.

 

“Don’t sound so sure of yourself.” Ino arches an eyebrow, daring Sakura on just to be petulant.

 

“It’s worked for me so far.” Sakura meets this with a shrug. She’s right. Ino has always let her get away with quite a bit.

 

“That could change at any time.”

 

“But will it?”

 

Ino considers. “I’ll guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

 

Sakura looks tired again. She must’ve worked today. Ino’s pretty tired, too, although she’s sure watching Kakashi-sensei mull around all day isn’t quite as strenuous as running around the hospital. Still. Rest beckons her.

 

“So, what’d you come over here for, anyways?” She continues on.

 

“I dunno, I just wanted to.” Sakura’s eyes shift - just slightly - but enough for Ino to notice. “Can’t we hang out?”

 

Ino’s chest glows with warmth. “Duh,” she smiles, and brushes back a strand of hair from Sakura’s face. “You’re so stupid, forehead, why don’t you just say that from the start?”

 

“You didn’t give me a chance to!”

 

Ino laughs cheerily. “Maybe.”

 

Sakura fixes her with a look. Ino kisses her.

 

She’s pulled down into Sakura’s lap, and thinks about how easy this is. Coming home from work and who she wants to see is right there, waiting for her with open arms and a smile. Exchanging a few blows of their typical witty banter and kissing hello. Being happy.

 

If only it could be this simple all the time.

 

They don’t do anything much beyond that. Ino lends Sakura clothes to sleep in and fixes her chipping nail polish while they two of them sit on her bed. Sakura keeps reading her book by the lamplight, propped up against the headboard, and Ino curls away from her, back flush with her side, eyes closed but still awake. Something inside her aches and aches, battling with the contentedness that tries to settle itself inside her. But that feeling of unease claws to the surface, telling her this can’t last forever. It never does. If she lets herself get used to it, it’ll hurt all that much more when it’s torn away.

 

Once again, she finds herself wishing for a mission to distract herself.

 

God, she’s messed up.

 

So, what? She’d go on a mission and get hurt again, and go crawling back to Sakura, licking her wounds? And Sakura would fix her and let her love her like she always does, while the same veil of impermanence surrounds them? It’s a cycle, and Ino knows she can break it, but isn’t sure how.

 

By suppressing her feelings even more? Maybe.

 

When she was younger, she used to indulge herself in fantasies. Of Sakura liking her back. Not just enough to do this, but enough to warrant love confessions, ones that go, ‘ _It was never Sasuke, it’s always been you, Ino. I love you. I want to be with you and only you._ ’ But now Ino doesn’t let herself venture into that territory anymore. It’s far too dangerous.

 

But she wants to. She wants that. She wants Sakura to say it right now, to put an end to this persistent, bitching longing for good.

 

But she won’t.

 

Maybe one day she will. Probably not.

 

Ino sleeps.

 

* * *

 

The next day she gets to work only to be given another mission. Just like she’s wished for.

 

She doesn’t have time to drop into the hospital and tell Sakura goodbye before she goes. Of course, it’s probably better this way.

 

This is just the way it is.

 

* * *

 

End.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> so sai being cat comes from me Not Knowing What the Hell his anbu mask is supposed to be. and i figure he can inherent cat from yamato. thanks again for reading!


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